


Full Frontliners

by Artemis_Dreamer



Series: The Squishy Apocalypse [15]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers Generation One
Genre: Acceptance, Belly Rubs, Drabble, Fat Robots, Fluff, I'm Going to Hell, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Weight Gain, belly stuffing, body image issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-02
Updated: 2017-04-02
Packaged: 2018-10-14 00:16:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,465
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10524927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Artemis_Dreamer/pseuds/Artemis_Dreamer
Summary: His left servo absentmindedly stroked the painfully full curve of Sunstreaker's chassis, prompting the golden frontliner to cuddle more closely against him. On his right, Sideswipe nudged the medic's arm, demanding to be given the same attention as his twin. Ratchet was more than willing to oblige.---In which the twins are even chubbier, and Ratchet realizes that he doesn't particularly mind.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kawaiirun](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kawaiirun/gifts).



> WARNING: This is a work of fetish fiction, involving unhealthy eating, belly stuffing, and weight gain.
> 
> Don't like, don't read.

"Sun-ny, it hurts." Sideswipe whined miserably. 

The crimson mech was massaging his painfully swollen chassis with desperate servos, faint moans of relief intermittently escaping his vocalizer. He was so stuffed with fuel that he doubted that he could even move.

"Wimp," Sunstreaker smirked. 

The golden mech was still fuelling, gorging himself with what remained of this afternoon's fourth and final cheesecake. Judging by the pained grimace on his faceplates, however, he was every bit as full as his suffering twin. Only sheer stubbornness drove him to continue fuelling. 

The twins had spent a lazy, self-indulgent afternoon together, sprawled side-by-side across a thoroughly unfortunate sofa in the Ark's recreation room. Their aching frames were liberally coated with cake crumbs, and they were surrounded by dozens upon dozens of empty plates.

Sideswipe hadn't been aware that it was physically possible for him to consume that much fuel in one sitting, but as the human phrase went, "you never know until you try." His playful rivalry with his twin often led him to undertake truly bizarre challenges, if only to prove that the two mechs were equally matched in every possible respect.

Sunstreaker stuffed yet another forkful of cake into his mouth, his optics roaming absentmindedly over his twin's chubby frame. Said optics lingered momentarily on Sideswipe's painfully bloated chassis, and a rueful thought entered the golden mech's processor.

Sunstreaker had deviated considerably from his original plan. That plan had entailed frequently stuffing his twin to great excess, while also imposing severe limitations his own fuel consumption, thus ensuring that the golden mech remained the thinner (and thereby the more attractive) twin.

Convincing Sideswipe to over-fuel had been relatively straightforward. Limiting his own fuel consumption had been considerably more difficult. 

The golden mech had found it incredibly difficult to accept the fact that the capacity of his crimson twin's tanks had gradually begun to exceed his own. In fact, he had found that he couldn't accept it at all. Hence their current situation - whenever Sunstreaker stuffed his twin with fuel, he made a point of equalling (or better yet, of exceeding) Sideswipe's consumption. 

It certainly didn't help matters that these human fuels were impossibly delicious, and that both mechs had quickly become addicted to all things sweet.

Suffice to say that Sunstreaker remained the larger twin by a considerable margin. 

The sound of a vocalizer being primed drew the attention of two identical pairs of optics to the doorway of the recreation room. Standing there was none other than the medic of the Autobot cause, Ratchet himself, wearing a thoroughly bemused expression on his tired faceplates.

"Pit." Two startled voices chorused. 

The twins had become so caught up in their competitive over-fuelling that they had completely forgotten the significance of today's date. Today was the orn that their beloved conjunx had finally been released from the medical bay.

"Do I want to know?" Said conjunx inquired, quirking an optic ridge as he gestured towards the two painfully stuffed mechs and the veritable mountain of dishes that surrounded them.

"Uh-" Sideswipe floundered momentarily, searching for a suitable excuse. 

Sunstreaker quickly cut him off. "Missed you. Ate too much. Fuel makes everything better." His words were rushed, and yet still somehow hesitant.

Stuffing the last forkful of cake into his mouth, the golden mech collapsed backwards into the sofa cushions alongside his twin. 

Amusement flickering in his optics, Ratchet entered the room proper, carefully examining his conjunxes as he made his way towards the sofa. He had only been confined to the medbay for two decaorns, and it was something of a shock to discover how incredibly chubby the twins had managed to become in such a short time. 

In many ways, the two mechs had remained similar. They both sported bulging stomachs, currently distended and stuffed painfully full of the least healthy fuel imaginable. Both mechs were also possessed of pleasantly plump thighs, generously curved hips, and pillowy afts. Identical dazed, contented expressions adorned their softened faceplates. Sunstreaker, however, had become noticeably heavier than Sideswipe, his golden chestplates and arm struts now considerably softer than those of his twin.

Both mechs were still adorable as all Pit. 

Squeezing his own frame between those of his conjunxes on the crowded sofa, Ratchet looped an affectionate arm around each twin's thick chassis, pulling the mechs close. Groaning contentedly, Sideswipe leaned against the medic's right side, while Sunstreaker slumped heavily against his left.

Two sets of sticky lipplates immediately began to press slow, lazy kisses along the older mech's cheekplates and neck cables.

Ratchet purred with approval. It had been disappointing to be discharged from the medbay and not be immediately met by his twin conjunxes - he was well aware that they had been greatly concerned by his injuries. This, however, more than made up for such a minor disappointment. 

Being cuddled between the soft, heavy frames of two gorgeously chubby mechs was pure bliss - bliss enough to excite even a spark as old and tired as the medic's own.

His twins were perfection, and Ratchet was well aware that he was wrapped firmly around their digits. No matter how often Sideswipe required applications of paint thinner and solvent after a prank gone wrong, no matter how often Sunstreaker required dents pounded out of his plating after an ill-advised brawl against a fellow Autobot -

No matter how often he dealt with the aftermath of their folly, Ratchet couldn't help but forgive them. He knew that he would also forgive them for this. 

The medic abruptly became aware of the way that Sunstreaker's optics were fixated intently on his faceplates, and of the way that waves of blatant insecurity radiated from Sideswipe's EM field. 

Insecurity? Oh. 

Ratchet was no fool, quickly connecting the dots. "As surprises go, this is one of the better ones you've given me." The medic admitted wryly, his field radiating comfort and reassurance. 

His left servo absentmindedly stroked the painfully full curve of Sunstreaker's chassis, prompting the golden frontliner to cuddle more closely against him. On his right, Sideswipe nudged the medic's arm, demanding to be given the same attention as his twin. Ratchet was more than willing to oblige. 

As he stroked their aching stomachs, however, it became clear from their unsettled fields that the frontliners remained unconvinced of his approval. 

"I was expecting to find the two of you in the brig, with a mile long list of complaints from Prowl." The medic joked. "Instead, I find you stuffed so full of fuel that I'm surprised your tanks haven't burst."

Sideswipe exvented with feigned irritation, but said nothing, impatiently waiting for Ratchet to reach his point.

"An old rustbucket like me has everything he needs." The medic smirked, "but I'd be a fool not to appreciate more of a good thing."

"You mean it?" Sideswipe prompted hesitantly.

"Of course he means it," Sunstreaker retorted, not bothering to wait for the medic's reply. "We're the best thing that ever happened to him. Why wouldn't he want more?"

Ratchet rolled his optics - the golden mech was incorrigibly vain. "The best thing that ever happened to me was my acceptance to medical college, which you'd Pit well know if you ever paid attention to my stories." His tone was one of dry amusement. "But I do mean what I said."

Continuing to gently caress the twins' stomachs, Ratchet smiled in earnest. "This is definitely one of the better surprises you've given me."

Two hesitant EM fields finally began to settle into a relaxed and comfortable wavelength as the twins realized the truth of their conjunx's words - realized that Ratchet was perfectly willing to accept their altered frames.

Then, Sideswipe's helm perked up, the crimson mech asking the question that had been at the forefront of both frontliners' processors. "So, bigger is better, right?" He inquired, his tone embarrassed. "Because I'm hungry again."

"Primus, Sides," Sunstreaker chuckled incredulously. Oftentimes, it seemed that his twin's tanks were a bottomless pit. Then again, his own tanks were very much the same. "So am I." 

Sandwiched comfortably between the chubby frames of his twin conjunxes, Ratchet exvented with fond frustration. Nothing he could say would stop the frontliners from continuing to stuff themselves at every possible opportunity - they had discovered the addictive pleasure of over-fuelling, and had long since passed the point of no return. 

If he were to be completely honest, the medic had no real desire to stop them.

His twins were perfection. Spoilt, vain, mischievous, and incredibly chubby perfection, but perfection nonetheless. He would be a fool not to appreciate more of a good thing.

Sensing their conjunx's willing resignation, Sunstreaker and Sideswipe shared a conspiratorial smirk. A common thought entered their bond - a thought that all but guaranteed the continued expansion of their frames.

“Seems our competition’s just getting started.”

**Author's Note:**

> For kawaiirun, who requested some squishy Sideswipe. (And for the anonymous Twobit, who was curious what would happen when Ratchet finally got out of the medbay). 
> 
> It just isn't possible to have one squishy twin without the other, and when you've got the twins together, you know Ratchet won't be far behind - he loves them at any size. I would have posted this yesterday, but to me, Squish is no joking matter. 
> 
> Requests remain closed, as my personal life remains uncertain. Please expect requests for the Cassetticons and Ratchet/Megatron to be posted in the near future.
> 
> Any and all feedback is appreciated.


End file.
